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I am possible!

A friend here at MFP recommended that I should take a picture of myself every two weeks, this way I could see the progress. It sounded like such a good idea until I stood in my bedroom in all my glory. 

I stood there in my underwear and forced myself to look in the mirror, that's something I have avoided for years. Almost 30 pounds are gone, and I wonder where I lost the weight. I am still enormous, I can't see any changes. But then how could I tell, I never really looked.

Perhaps the friend is right, and I should take my picture. Comparing photographs once in a while could show more than any number on the scale. 

Alone at home, on my day off, I tried to find a posture and something to wear that wouldn't show it all so brutal. But then, what good would that do. Here in between all my friends and people just like me, I can be honest. I don't have to hide behind a facade, I don't have to hide under a tent. 

I thought about all the success stories that I read, and how much all of them had impressed me when I could see their success and not just read about it. I want to be a success story just like them. I am too old to show myself in my underwear, but surely I could find something that would be suitable for a "Before" picture.

I took my measurements, and that knocked me down as well. No wonder my back hurts, my bra, the one that looks like a caring tool for watermelons, is 4 inches too small. The numbers on the measuring tape surprised me as much as my reflection in the mirror. 

Why can I see it now so clearly, but wasn't able to see the truth for so many years? I became bigger and bigger by avoiding to look at myself. I bought clothes a number larger; just added another X, and continued to let my weight spiral out of control.

I don't want my kids to see my in my underwear, neither do I want my coworkers to see me like that. Not knowing who else might be here at MFP, I decided that I  will not show my face and I hope that's alright. 

There is a lounge outfit in my dresser that I bought on eBay a few years back. I remember it so well, it's an expensive brand, and I almost got outbid. It arrived at our house a few days later, both was way too small. I didn't fit into an XL anymore...but I let it slide. I put it in the drawer of my dresser and forgot all about it -until today. 

I got it out and, put it on a hanger and held it up in front of me. I took the picture. It shows the cute ensemble and me standing behind it...lots of me is behind the picture. It will be a long way until I will fit into it but I am confident that I will. Perhaps not this year but I hope next year in spring I will finally be able to wear it. 

I took more pictures. I didn't enjoy it, it was a rather painful experience but I suppose it really could help me on my journey. For the first time in so long, I have a goal in mind. For the first time in a long time, I am able to see myself. 

The scale today showed that I lost another 3 pounds. I have lost now 28.5 pounds in 74 days.

It is possible. I am possible. 

Into the Light

Last night I went to our corner drug store. I wanted to pick up my husband's medication, needed a birthday card and some dog treats, possibly a new lipstick.

I was ready to check out, made my way to the register when I noticed all the Easter candy. I just wanted to take a quick look, perhaps pick up my husband's favorite candy for his lunch box. 

I went further down the aisle, and before I knew it, I picked up the goodies left and right. A chocolate bunny, my favorite marshmallow eggs, jumbo jelly beans I had never seen before and of course my beloved chocolate. 

I did manage to buy the Kitkat’s for my husband's lunchbox, but everything else in the card was for me. Everything that I had learned over the last 60 days flew out of the window. I was not in control at all; something had taken over, something that I cannot describe. It is hard to explain.

It has nothing to do with willpower or discipline, because I know I have both. It's not an addiction; it's more like an obsession. I am obsessed with candy, always have been.

I ate the first egg right then there before I even left the parking lot. I continued to eat candy in the car, and later at home. I refused to think about MFP or anything else that could have stopped me, instead I continued my candy binge session the same way I always did. 

In the end, it made me feel sad; it made me feel almost sick. Just in the morning, I had celebrated another 2-pound weight loss and the 25-pound mark, and a few hours later I felt defeated. 

I sat up for a long time after my husband had gone to bed. I drunk a glass of wine stared into the dark. I feel so good when I plan my meals and eat healthier. 

It feels like I am sabotaging myself and it doesn't make any sense.  

"Obsession is like a helicopter ride out of the desert," someone wrote once, and it makes so much sense to me. The roots of my unhealthy relationship with food were planted in my childhood. 

I have to accept who I am and I have I have to find a way to deal with my weaknesses. I have to address the pain and the void I feel sometimes. 

I added another 1,800 calories to my food log for yesterday and it didn't feel good. Perhaps it's a victory that I log it and I  don't try to hide it.  It's tough to admit it, but oh well, it happened. 

 

 

One stinking, lousy pound


One stinking, lousy pound gone for good and it took me one whole week to lose it.

I have this vision in my head; now I can see who I want to be. I have lost 23 lbs. in 60 days, that's a significant weight loss for ordinary people; still, I don't see or feel a difference. I can't tell with my cloth; I wear elastic waistbands since years. My tops seem wider but I am not sure, perhaps that's just wishful thinking.

Spring is just around the corner, and I stopped at my favorite plus size store. I had a coupon; there was a buy one, get one 1/2 off sale. Needless to say, I wanted to spend some money. The same lady greeted me as always, she knows me; I am one of her valued customers. She remembered my size and showed me the new spring outfits right away. I grabbed a few and went into the fitting room.

As always, I faced away from the mirror, when  I stripped down to my underwear. I don't want to look at myself. I do it since years; I only look at the bathroom mirrors, everything else that shows my reflection I avoid successfully.

I stepped out of the fitting room, and she praised how beautiful everything looked on me, and I smiled. We both play the game the way we are supposed to. She lies about the way I look, and I smile and pretend I don't notice. We understand each other.

"You know, I have lost over 20 pounds," I hear myself say," and will continue to lose weight," I add with confidence, "I might as well try it on  a size smaller." She smiles at me, and I wonder how often she had heard people say that. She brings me everything in a 2X, and I try it on. It fits, perhaps a bit tight over my tummy, but not uncomfortable.

I lost already one dress size, but nobody notices it because I am so big. My success made me smile. I bought both outfits in a 2X, and I couldn't help but think about the next step. 30 or 40 more pounds gone I might fit in a 1X, and then, perhaps in fall, I might fit into an XL in a regular store.

I shared my thoughts with the sales clerk, and she doesn't respond. She is a big girl too, everybody here in this store is massively overweight. I wonder how often she listens to people like me. I know most of us have tried to lose weight numerous times - I have been one of them.

Soon she will look at me and see a winner, and I can't wait to share my joy with her. Who knows I might motivate her to change her mindset as well.

I chose the subject "Stinking, lousy pounds" on purpose because there is no such thing. One pound means the world to me. Many -too many-  here seem to be discouraged when they "only" lose one pound and I wish they wouldn't feel like that.

I feel like I am on top of the world. Even one little pound is a fabulous achievement. I am walking toward my vision. 

To my unborn Granchild

Dear Grandchild!

You haven’t been born yet -you are not even in the making- but I know the kids started planning your arrival and I have a feeling we will meet soon.

I drove to the grocery store the other day, parked, and sat in the car for a while, finished up a conversation with a client of mine and took some notes.

Right in front of me a truck pulled up, the passenger door opened and a woman in her 30’s got out and walked toward the store. The driver’s door was cracked opened but nobody came out. Absentminded I watched what was going on, wondered if they needed any help. The woman came back driving an electric cart, and she parked it in front of the truck. Finally, the driver stepped out- very slowly- he was a tall and heavy man, right about my age. I don’t guess weight or age very well, but I estimate his weight around 400+ lbs.

I ended the phone conversation but didn’t move. I continued to watch, sat there like a stalker. I am not sure why; perhaps I sat there realizing this could be me one day.

Then the back door opened and a little girl got out and climbed directly into the basket of the electric cart. She wasn’t older than 5 or 6. She was very heavy, all of them were.

The family resemblance was obvious. Also obvious was their obesity. All of them, including the little girl, were heavily overweight.

I don’t know the story of this family, I am in no position to judge –neither do I want to- but the situation made me think about my obesity and what kind of role model I would be right now.

I can’t shake the image of the little overweight girl off, and I wonder about you and me. What kind of grandma will I be? Will I teach you that it’s alright to eat a dozen donuts, or will I show you that you can be healthy and active in your 50’s?

You know, years ago when your parents were little, I watched out for us. I cooked great meals. Money was tight back then, we couldn’t afford sports clubs or a gym, instead, we played outside a lot. We went walking and hiking, we jumped, and we run. There was always enough food, we couldn’t afford to eat out very often. I was (still am) a great cook. Back then I cooked healthy meals.

Your parents are active, so are your aunts and uncles. They continued to live the way we brought them up. It’s just me who has changed, and for the life of me, I don’t know why.

I became morbidly obese, just like the gentleman who stepped out of the car, but hopefully, you will never see me like this.

I will love to be your grandma, and I will do my best to change my way. I want you to be active and healthy; I want you to have a healthy relationship with food.  I want us to play and jump together. I want you to remember the fun –not the food. 

Most of all I want to be around when you will grow up and my weight and how I eat and will have a lot to do with it. I will do my best.

(I have dropped another 3 pounds -with the help of the flu- and have lost 22 lbs altogether.)

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